Of Cheesy Dialogues and Clichés
by Soporific
Summary: ReTi. Slight Crack. Complete. According to her, real life doesn't have happy endings. However, he decided to prove her wrong. The cliché...with a twist.
1. Of Cheesy Dialogues

**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft/Square-Enix. The Pink Panther song belongs to...whoever it belongs to. Me no own. You no sue.

**A/N:** I'm ALIVE! XD Now that aside...Another one of those past-midnight musings, but this time, I actually typed it up. This is _not_ a one-shot, only part one of two. What would you call that? A two-shot? Anyone know? BTW, yeah, I know the title of this thing is: **Of Cheesy Dialogues and Clichés**, but the title down there says: **Of Cheesy Dialogues and Bullshit Clichés.** This is because the title and summary for the fic is supposed to be 'G', and I don't wanna risk anything with the word 'bullshit'. So yeah.

**Warnings: **Slight OOC maybe, but then again, it _is_ slightly crack.

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**Of Cheesy Dialogues and Bullshit Clichés**

**Chapter One: Of Cheesy Dialogues**

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Tifa _hated_ soap operas. In fact, she absolutely _loathed_ them. They were so…full of bullshit clichés. She had always wondered why people (and a lot of them, too, she mused) adored them. They were so predictable, and the cheesy dialogues irked her to no end. If there was one thing that she could ban from the world of television, it would be soap operas. Nope, not commercials, not violence, nor, ah-, the stuff that are inappropriate for the virgin eyes of children of Marlene's age, but soap operas. …And that sufficiently sums up just how much she hates them. 

"Argh! Who the hell watches soap operas at 11:49 PM anyway!"

With a miraculous touch of a button, the T.V screen went black in about a nanosecond. Alright, so it wasn't _that_ miraculous; it was just called a remote.

And so the brunette stood in her bar, furiously wiping the stubborn dirt off the countertops, grumbling incoherent things under her breath. Today was _not_ a good day. There were very few days on which a particular kind-hearted, generous, loving and caring Tifa Lockheart could be so…moody. It just happened that today is one of those days. She kept convincing herself that it was _not_ her fault; rather, it was the evil doings of a…certain monthly visitor, shall we say.

A certain redhead sitting in the corner of the bar raised one perfect left eyebrow. Sensing the dangerous aura that was emanating from the brunette, he decided to act smart for once, and silently inched away…millimeter by millimeter (inside his head, the Pink Panther theme song was playing itself over and over).

_Right. Keep it up. Only about, uh…10 meters left to the door._

…Some say self-talk is an efficient way to promote self-confidence or to keep the intoxicated sane. And some say talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. However, Reno was neither of the former. He was very abundant when it came to confidence, and he was _not_ under any influence of any drugs…currently. So the logic settled on the latter.

_But I'm not insane!_

_**Oh no, you've gone well and beyond that.**_

And if there are _two_ voices in your head? …Completely deranged. Let's just leave it at that.

Getting back to the current situation at hand, the ex-Turk had managed to steadily move away from the brunette quietly, while still sipping the whiskey in hand. He had some kind of sixth sense that told him that if he was to say anything right at that moment, the swollen balloon of Tifa's pent-up frustration might just pop…and he _might_ just get hurt. At least, he thought it was a sixth sense (and he was so damn proud of it too); normal, common ordinary people would have called it 'common sense' instead. Nevertheless.

Suddenly, the door to the bar opened, revealing three already drunken men ready to get even more drunk. Their abrupt, loud and noisy presence shattered the stiff and dangerous atmosphere…only to be replaced with an even stiffer and more dangerous one.

"Can I get you _anything_?" To the drunken, her voice sounded sweet and chirpy. To the only un-drunken in the bar besides Tifa herself, her voice sounded sweetly dangerous…and chirpy because she knew the moment her self-control disappears, she would have a sweet, sweet time taking out her frustration on these poor, innocent drunkards.

Reno gulped. This was _not_ good. If he doesn't get out of here soon, there would be bloodshed (alright…so if he _did_ get out of there, those drunk people would _still_ get pummeled to death and there would _still_ be bloodshed, but hey, that was beside the point). Cold and calculating (perhaps not so much of the 'cold'), he began to inch away from Tifa faster, centimeters by centimeters this time, thinking that those stupid, _stupid_ people who hadn't a clue as to what they were in for would be a good enough distraction to keep Tifa occupied.

"_Bleep!"_

…And the T.V was turned on.

"…_Oh, Robbie! I don't know what to say!"_

"Well, whaddya know? They still have these kinds of programs at this hour!" slurred one of the drunk men.

"Are you sure they're not the R-rated ones?" slurred another.

And the three of them burst into a slurred, drunken laughter.

"_You don't have to say anything… I understand it all now… Everything was just a stupid mistake. I'm so sorry…"_

The so called actor dubbed "Robbie" had lifted his lover's hands and gingerly held them in his own. Slowly, he kissed her hand, eyes never leaving hers for an instant.

"_Oh, Robbie!"_

"_I'm so sorry for everything…everything. Can you forgive me?"_

Tears welled up in "Robbie's" lover's eyes, and Reno _swore_ he saw a vein popping on the side of Tifa's head.

"_Of course! And I'm sorry myself, I should have never-"_

"_Hush now… I know."_

The girl practically burst in tears and clung onto her lover's shirt like there was no tomorrow.

"_Robbie… Oh, I love you…"_

"_I love you too…"_

Unfortunately, no, wait, scratch that- _fortunately_ Reno didn't get to see the couple skipping away happily ever after into the sunset, hand in hand with a big fake smile plastered onto their faces. This was not because the entire thing would've been overly mushy and would've made him gagged, rather, because Tifa's level of toleration by now had reached its limits, and Reno was an eager audience to the upcoming action.

As the infinitely patient woman called Tifa finally cracked it, Reno watched in childlike glee, whilst still clutching the whiskey in hand, inching away _ten_ centimeters by _ten_ centimeters slowly towards the door, all this time thinking: _slow and steady, like Lena always says when I'm driving._ He also bore in mind that before the whole thing had gotten out of hand, he had left money on the counter, as to free himself of a guilty escape. By now, Reno was _teeming _with pride. He felt extremely proud of himself for being so _smart_, although others could argue that he was stupid enough to not bolt out of the door while he still had the chance…but, once again, that was beside the point.

_2 more meters! And she's almost done with her pummeling too! Perfect timing! You're ingenious, Reno!_

_**Hell yeah!**_

…Self-talk was one thing, but self-praise?

Just as Reno's hand had reached the door handle, Tifa looked up, evil gaze still in place, like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

_Whoops._

_**Ditto that.**_

"RENO!"

Automatically, Reno's hand shrunk away from the door handle as he cowered in fear.

Whimpers.

"WHAT!" she snapped angrily.

More whimpers.

"RENO! I can't hear a bloody thing you're saying! Speak up!"

Jumpstarted and terrified, he managed to squeal out, "I'm sorry! I swear! I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong! But I wasn't going to leave without paying! The money's on the counter! Really! If you don't believe me, check it yourself!"

Tifa raised an eyebrow at him, but the redhead only stared back in fear. Reluctantly, her eyes darted to the counter, where – sure enough – were Reno's payment for his drinks. Tifa set his eyes back on him. Her gaze was still piercing, and it sent shivers down Reno's spine. Suddenly, her anger subsided as she gave a long, weary sigh. Seeing her mood shrinking (sort of like a deflating tyre, Reno noted), he sighed too, although it was more in relief.

Reno's gaze automatically landed on the three, drunken, and unfortunate men. They looked-, well…disheveled would be a nice way to put it. Tifa traced his gaze, and her eyes landed on the men. They whimpered in either pain or fear (or probably both), and Tifa let out another mighty sigh.

"12 o'clock. Bar's closed."

The bravest one out of the three reached forward to drop their money on the nearest table, before backing away slowly to the other two. After one last look, they all made a mad dash out of the bar.

"Come again soon!" she called out. Her voice was stoic and devoid of all emotions, but Reno could've swornthere was a trace of a smirk gracing her lips.

"Now then…" She turned back to Reno, who only returned her a look of pure horror. "Oh yeah, sorry about that… Not having the greatest day, you know…"

_Gulp._

"Uhh… Yeah, no worries."

_No WORRIES? Talk about sarcasm…_

She grinned suddenly, all cheerful and happy again, back to the 'normal' Tifa mode. "You finished with that whiskey?" she asked, smiling warmly as she reached for the glass in his hands.

Reno sighed again, thanking every deity in the universe that the 'storm' had passed and he was well and truly alive…at least, for now. "Yeah," he said, handing over the glass.

"Hmm… Sorry again 'bout that…"

"Don't worry about it."

"…Although I have to admit, seeing THE great Reno, once a Turk, cower in fear in a mere girl's presence was _pretty_ amusing," she said, grinning widely.

Reno's mind was screaming. His dignity was snatched, thrown to the ground, and stomped on by a herd of buffalos.

_All that BRUTE force and you call yourself a 'girl'!_

_**Self-control, Reno, self-control…**_

Reno wasn't about to take any chances, so he merely scoffed (in his mind, he congratulated himself on his very well managed manner). Tifa, noticing the obvious lack of a follow-up insult, merely waved a hand in the air.

"Don't worry, I won't blow up on _you_."

Reno didn't have a clue as to whether her statement was intended with sarcasm or not. Oh well.

"So, what happened? You having your period or something?"

Tifa's eyebrow twitched.

_Gulp. Oh whoops…_

…So much for self-control.

"Err, hey, I was joking…" He tried to sound cheery as usual, but he knew he was failing miserably by the second.

Tifa sighed again. "How'd you know?" she muttered miserably.

"Eh? What? You mean you _are_ having your-, er, you know,- thing?"

Tifa rolled her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he said defensively. Every single girl I've asked that question to just denies it."

"Well, _maybe _they just don't _want _you to know, dumbass."

Reno feigned hurt at the sudden insult. "And what's with your secret loathing towards soap operas?"

Tifa raised an eyebrow at the word 'secret', but the redhead just grinned goofily, obviously back to his obnoxious self.

"They're just…so _stupid._" She shrugged. "I mean, for one, they're overly mushy, not to mention extremely cheesy and makes me want to gag, _and_ they're full of bullshit clichés. How many times have you confessed your feelings to someone like _that_?

Reno, being Reno, answered, "Well…" and started counting his fingers.

"No, wait, I momentarily forgot I was talking to you. Don't answer that," she warned.

He smirked. "…Too many to count..?"

Tifa hit him over the head.

"That hurts!" he whined like a little kid being picked by a big bully.

_Geez, she doesn't know her own strength._

"You just killed thousands of my precious brain cells!"

"Yeah, they're only precious because you don't have much of them in the first place." This time, she was the one smirking.

Reno pouted, giving her one of his irresistibly cute looks (or so he thought). She laughed.

"But seriously, soap operas are just a bunch of lies put together. Real life's not like that."

Reno tilted his head at this, and studied her for her moment. She was currently washing the dishes, and he could only manage a side view of her face, but even then, her body language told him something was off.

He suddenly scowled, realizing what it was. "It's the chocobo head, isn't it?"

She gave an automatic response rather than an answer. "Reno, don't call him-"

"_Isn't_ it?" he demanded.

Silence.

Reno sighed, taking that as a 'yes'. Over the months that he had gotten to know her, he had come to respect the fact that what was going on between the two was entirely _their_ business. But Reno was Reno. In his dense little mind (or maybe not…), he just couldn't figure out why a girl-, no, woman like _her_ would be moping about an emotionally stunted jerk like _him_ who also had a major personality disorder. There are, after all, millions of other men out there better than that airhead (such as his charming self, he nominated shamelessly).

Reno sighed again. "Oh well, I'm off to bed."

Tifa's face turned towards him. Before she could speak, he had interrupted. "Early night, tonight. I think I've had enough action for one night," he said, winking.

Tifa nodded, not returning his humour.

"Goodnight."

"G'nite."

Somehow, his sudden backing off worried her a bit. It wasn't quite like the usual Reno. She bit her lip in uncertainty, brows knitted together in confusion. What now…? She was annoyed and angry, but not quite sure why. Inside, her soul was once again raging with frustration, so she did the only thing she could do at the moment…

"ARGH!"

But from outside, Reno could only hear a muffled noise, as well as the gears in his mind working away slowly.

_Plan: Formulated._

_**Brilliant, Reno. You're a genius.**_

_DAAAAAAMN straight._

He smirked.

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**A/N:** I'm sorry! I couldn't help putting in Reno's alter ego in there! It's just so much fun to write. XD Anyway. Let me know what you think. Reviews and constructive critiscm are both welcomed. I have the next (and final) chapter all plotted out and some bits of it written already. This chapter is basically just building up to set the scene for the next one. You'll get what I mean when you read the next chappie. Alritey then. Click that button! XD Cheers. 


	2. Of Bullshit Clichés

**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft/Square-Enix. Tweety, Bugs Bunny and Donald Duck belong to their rightful owners. Me no own, you no sue.

**A/N:** Har! I'm back! Sorry if it took quite a while to get this chapter done; the lack of reviews in the first couple of days sort of de-inspired me. But worry not! Have no fear, chapter 2 is here! XD And thank you very much for those who reviewed! You people are my source of inspiration! My elixir of life! My um-, ok, I'll stop. Here's the second and final chapter. Enjoy!

**Warnings:** Again, slight crack. Hope it's not too much OOC-ness.

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**Of Cheesy Dialogues and Bullshit Clichés**

**Chapter Two: Of Bullshit Clichés

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Tifa sighed for the umpteenth time that day as she begun the tedious work of wiping the countertops. The past week had gone by without a hitch – and that was what worried her. Since the eventful night exactly seven days ago, she had not seen Reno, which would explain the smooth sailing of her business. Trust Reno to muddle things up and mess with her brains.

Right now though, she was confused. Something was amiss, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it – or perhaps, she just didn't want to, knowing already the answer and denying it.

She let out another sigh, and wearily glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:46. In less than fifteen minutes, she would have to close the bar. Finding her voice, she announced it to the only customer left in the lonely bar. She received a slurred statement of something between 'ok' and 'oomph' as an answer. She sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of sighing lately, she mused to herself. It was all _his_ fault. Unconsciously, her mind drifted back to him.

He always came to the bar for a drink, every night, at 11:50 PM sharp. _Always._ From his very first day to that day a week ago.And because of his punctuality and consistency, she always waited up for him, even when the last of her customers had filtered through the door an hour before. Funny that. Sometimes he would find her sleeping, head on the countertop with an exhausted expression on her face. No matter how tired she was, she would wait. And no matter how great or shitty his day was, he would come. It had become a routine; one that they both stuck to for so long…and one that she _would_ stick to.

Today was no exception. She slumped onto one of the stools, and her head dropped onto the counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the last customer getting up to leave. She grunted, and shifted her position to glance at the clock. 11:48. Two minutes, she'd give him that, she decided. Meanwhile… Her consciousness slipped. Her mind wandered. And her eyes slid shut.

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He was skipping. He couldn't believe it himself. But he was. Skipping along his merry way, and humming a tune to himself. Ooh, what would Elena, Rude and Tseng think of him now...? He grinned. His life was currently full of sunshine and butterflies and rainbows. His mind was alert, and adrenaline began pumping itself into his system as he felt the excitement drew near. He smirked. And there it was; the bar. Nope, it wasn't just _any_ old bar, it was THE bar. He glanced at his watch. 11: 49 PM. Perfect. 

_Destination: Reached._

_**Copy that.**_

If he was anyone but Reno, the redhead would've giggled to himself right at this very moment, but, as fate would have it, he was Reno. Thus he didn't. Instead, a confident smirk found its way onto his face, and he strode briskly across the street. A second glance at his watch told him that he was right on time.

_Ting!_

The bell in the bar went off with a somewhat muted and demented sound as the door opened, and taking it as his cue, he stepped in.

* * *

Tifa jerked awake, slightly annoyed at the fact that her two minute nap had been interrupted. Groggily, her mind slid back to her state of consciousness. Two minutes… She straightened up sharply in her chair. Automatically, her eyes wandered to the door. No one there. 

_Shit._

She _swore_ she heard the bell go. Was she really that tired to start hearing things? _Idiot._ She scolded herself for letting false hope take over her. She was over hope a long time ago, and preferred to keep far, far away from it. She groaned, and turned around…only to be met by a pair of twinkling green eyes, mischief dancing playfully in them.

She tried very, very hard not to fall back onto the floor in surprise, and resisted the ever-tempting urge to slap his handsome face.

"Reno!"

He grinned mischievously. Somehow, his whole persona seemed to be radiating with mischief. Trusting her instincts, Tifa asked the first question that popped into her head: "What are you up to?"

Her tone was filled with demanding suspicion, and she had not bothered to conceal it. Immediately, Reno feint hurt – something he believed he was very talented at.

"That's not a very nice way to greet a man who deserves high respect."

Tifa snorted. "You're up to something. I can literally _smell_ the mischief in the air," she said, narrowing her eyes in further interrogation.

"I'm not up to anything, I swear," his innocent tone not deceiving her.

"Your fingers are crossed."

"Err, nothing bad that is."

"Really," she stated dryly.

"Really." And with that, he quickly changed the subject. "You didn't miss me? I was gone for a whole week and you didn't miss me? I thought the first thing you'd do when you see me is throw yourself on me." His tone was obnoxious, clearly very Reno.

She glared at him. "Where were you? You made me wait up every _friggin_ night. You could've at least told me if you weren't gonna come. But _nooo_… No calls, no nothing. The first thing I should've done when you set foot on this bar is to give you a good beating." She was clearly pissed.

At the mention of a beating, Reno inwardly cringed, but didn't let it show. "You…waited for me?" he asked uncertainly, as if he was sure he had heard the wrong thing.

Tifa hesitated at his tone. "Well, yeah…"

The mischievous grin had found its way back onto his face. "Missed me, did ya?"

Tifa raised an eyebrow, and her hand made a dangerous move to aim for his head, but Reno hastily stepped back, both hands raised in the air in defence.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…!"

She narrowed her eyes, and the accusing tone was back. "So where were you?" she hissed.

"I have a perfectly legible and true excuse."

She silently prompted him to go on.

"Whatever I'm gonna say, I'm being completely honest, I swear."

The look on her face was one of impatience. The look on his face was one of obvious discomfort. The conversation wasn't supposed to sway in this direction. He inwardly groaned. Why did he not anticipate this coming?

_Slick move, Mr. Smooth. And I thought your plan was flawless?_

Reno's counterpart mind didn't have time to retort. To the great disconcertion of the redhead, Tifa made a move to crack her fists.

Taking the hint, he finally stated, "I went to Mideel."

"What for?"

"Uhh… Business?"

_What a convincing tone_, Tifa thought mildly. "Oh?" she asked, deciding to play along for the moment. "What kind of business?"

"Oh… You know, the usual stuff," he said in a lame attempt of a casual tone.

Tifa shot him a silent look, prodding him to elaborate.

"Umm… The kinds of business that involves fancy suits and briefcases?"

He was a horrible liar. A horrible, _horrible_ liar. Not entirely buying it, she said, "You obviously have very little knowledge in the business department, that's for sure."

"H-hey! But businessmen _do_ wear those fancy suits, don't they? The one with those shirts _tucked in_, and those _ridiculously_ embarrassing ties and polished, shiny, _clean_ shoes that make you wanna smear dirt all over them and-"

Tifa stared him into shutting up, all the while thinking that the guy must have some sort of hygienic (or lack thereof) problem.

"Confess."

Reno grumbled under his breath, and looked down to his shoes (which was not polished or shiny in any sense, by the way).

"Didn't catch that, sorry," she chirped cheerfully.

He mumbled something else.

She proceeded to talk in a very high volume of noise. "WHAT? RENO? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"ARGH! I had to go and visit my grandma, alright? Her cat Tweety died and she wanted me to attend its friggin funeral!"

"…"

"…"

"What kind of woman – no, _person_ – would name their cat _Tweety_?"

"…Look, I know it's not the most original way to name a cat after a _bird_, but-"

But she didn't seem to have paid any attention to his last statement. "_Tweety _has _got_ to be the _most_ annoying cartoon character in the history of cartoons!"

He immediately took the insult. "Hey! Tweety is cool! Don't _bag_ Tweety!"

"It's _yellow_!"

"So? Yellow is like, the new black!"

"It has a _quacky,_ super annoying voice! It's even _worse_ than Bugs Bunny or Donald Duck or any other cartoon characters! Anything with that kind of voice deserves to die!"

"It's not an 'it'!"

"…"

"And Tweety doesn't quack! Tweety's a _warbler!_"

"It's a bloody _canary_!"

"Yeah, well, newsflash for you, Miss-I-know-all-about-Tweety-but-is-still-dentying-its-coolness, CANARIES DON'T QUACK EITHER!"

He shouted the last bit with such conviction and _passion _that the thought 'he must've had a deranged, Tweety-filled childhood' did not go disregarded by her.

Tifa stared.

And stared.

And stared.

"DON'T STARE AT ME LIKE THAT!"

She didn't listen to him. "Why," she said slowly, "are you so obsessed with _Tweety_?"

"Don't bag my obsession!"

"It's unhealthy. And _why_ is your grandma's cat _called_ Tweety? Don't tell me you named it."

"…I _didn't_. Why would I want to name that bloody, brutal, evil, satanic, _demonic_ man-eating _devil?_"

_Ohkay… _Tifa thought. So he has some affection problems with the cat.

"So why is it called Tweety?"

Reno looked at her for a moment. His eyes looked _almost_ watery, as if he was on the verge of tears, and Tifa snorted mentally.

"Well?" she asked.

"Because it ate my bird, Tweety!"

She couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. She _knew_ she really should be sympathetic to this, er- _man_ about this er- unfortunate event, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop the laughter.

"Don't _laugh_! Tweety died a heroic death!"

She kept laughing, clutching her stomach in pain. "Heroic? As in getting eaten by a 'man-eating' cat?" Oh, the giggles.

"Heroic as in the stupid cat went after _me_ and Tweety swooped in just in time to stop it!"

She almost choked on her words because of laughing so much. "So, to prevent the cat _eating_ you, your bird decided to swoop _into_ its mouth and get itself eaten instead?" A new fit of laughter burst out.

"Oh…" he said darkly. "You're just as bad as my grandma!"

"Why?" she asked innocently.

"Because she named the bloody cat after my bird to _constantly_ remind me of my survivor's guilt!"

"Oh, no, Reno…" she said quite seriously. "There, there, I'm sure she only wanted to commemorate Tweety's heroic bravery."

Too bad she couldn't keep a straight face.

He glared at her, while she giggled even more. "You evil, Tweety-hating woman."

She grinned. "Cheers."

"Why do _you_ hate Tweety so much?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It's just annoying. You know, the voice." She proceeded to mimic it. "'I tawt I taw a puddy tat!'"

This time it was Reno's turn to laugh.

"Hey! It's not _that_ funny!"

He didn't stop. "No, it's not, but since it's you, it becomes an entirely different story." He chuckled. "Who knew the great Tifa Lockheart harboured secret loathing towards soap operas _and_ Tweety?"

"And who knew the great Reno of the Turks harboured a secret vengeance towards his grandmother's cat _named_ Tweety?" she retorted.

"Oh, shut up."

She grinned. "Why didn't you tell me you were going away then?"

"I wasn't supposed to tell you. It wasn't part of the scheme of upholding my dignity."

"But you did."

"I know."

"It wasn't easy getting the information out of you, though. You couldn't save me all the trouble and just say it?"

"NO!"

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"_Because_."

"WHY?"

"Just _because_."

Gawd, he was so stubborn. Tifa pouted. "Fine then, don't tell me," she huffed, then turned away from him.

Reno watched her retreating back, and with a grin, he replied all too happily, "Fine then, I won't."

She huffed again, then half-heartedly stomped to the counter, grabbed a random glass from the countertop, and started wiping it furiously, as if trying to scrub the poor glass to pieces.

She was _sulking._

If it had been any other person but her, the statement above would be perfectly plausible. But alas, it was _Tifa Lockheart_. THE Tifa Lockheart. The very same one that could kick any guy's ass any day without so much as a glove, the one that had put up with a certain clueless blonde with gravity-defying hair, a black man with a gun for an arm and an anger management issue, a hyperactive, obnoxious, kleptomaniac of a ninja, a constantly smoking pilot whose entire vocabularyconsisted of colourful swearing, a vampire, a talking robotic cat, a talking dog-like creature who was 6 years younger than her yet had an IQ 100 above hers, and goodness knows what else. Oh, and she managed to save the world too.

Tifa Lockheart _does not sulk_.

Yet, despite all this, she _was _sulking. Honestly, the things she does when he's around. She had stooped lower than the lowest by being so _immature_. Hypocrite, really, she thought, as she used to think of herself as one of mature disposition.

And while Tifa was having a mental debate with herself, Reno had seated himself on the bar stool, currently spinning around and grinning goofily to himself. He was inwardly wondering about her sudden mood change. Was she still having her period…?

After a few seconds of non-stop spinning, he said, still grinning, "Forgive me?"

Tifa glared at him. "For what? A) For naming your bird Tweety? B) For not telling me that you went to Mideel for a whole week to attend _Tweety's_ funeral? Or C) For being an ass?"

"Umm, strictly B) and C). I'm sorry?"

Tifa 'hmph'ed again, and stuck out her tongue childishly.

"Okay, then. Time for plan B. Bribes?"

She smirked. "Anything over 50,000 gil is tax deductible."

"Hey! I'm not _that_ rich!"

"Well then, too bad. You can forget about redemption."

…And he was behind her in less than a second. She turned around, surprised, and opened her mouth to say something, only to have his hand clamped over it. His raised his other hand and put a finger to his mouth, requesting silence.

Tifa raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

His voice was lowered to a husky baritone. "You don't have to say anything… I understand it all now… Everything was just a stupid mistake. I'm so sorry…"

If Tifa's mouth wasn't covered by his hand, it would've been hanging open. The nerve of him…!

"I'm so sorry for everything…everything. Can you forgive me?"

_Cheesy, _his inner self commented.

_**Perfect.**_

At this moment, he lifted his hand from her mouth. His arms immediately made an automatic movement to encircle her waist. Tifa, however, was far too occupied to be bothered by the close proximity. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he only gazed back at her. The look in his eyes was almost _sincere_ it was comical.

Then she smirked. He wanted to act, huh? Fine then, she'll let him have his way, but not without _her_.

She draped her arms around his neck, and pulled closer into his embrace. One hand started caressing his cheek tenderly, and she spoke softly, "Oh Reno! Of course! And I'm sorry myself, I should have never-"

"Hush now… I know."

Tifa realized that this was the part where she was supposed to burst into tears in all the melodrama, but the thought alone sickened her. Instead, she continued caressing his cheek slowly, mischief bubbling inside her mind.

"_Reno_…"

The way she said his name sent shivers down his spine, and he found himself momentarily panicking.

_This isn't in the script!_

_**Hell no! Improvise!**_

Then, slowly, Tifa began to lean into him. Her face was merely millimeters away from his, and he shut his eyes instinctively, feeling his legs go all wobbly, butterflies experimenting with fireworks in his stomach. Oh yes, the rumours going around about _him_ being a charming ladykiller was false, false, _false._

Tifa, however, had an entirely different plan. As soon as she saw him close his eyes, she drew her hand away from his cheek, and in one, swift, painful (for him at least) movement, she gave him an uppercut to the jaw.

_OW!_

_**OW!**_

When Reno's two supposedly opposite minds agree on something, then the conclusion is absolute.

"OW!"

She snickered.

"What was _that _for?"

"Well, to obtain forgiveness, one must give up something. Consider that as your sacrifice."

The smirk playing on her lips was so irritating, infuriating and annoying that Reno just _had_ to wipe it off her pretty face.

_Oh! I have a half-mind to-_

**I_ have a half-mind to-_**

_Half and half make one._

_**Let's do it!**_

And he did. Before Tifa knew what had hit her, Reno's lips were already on hers. If the redhead wasn't too busy kissing her, he would've smirked in triumph.

Once they pulled apart, Reno took his chance to say something first. "I brought you something from Mideel." His facial expression was serious, indicating that he wasn't joking, but his tone was light.

Tifa was blushing a thousand shades of red. "Umm, I-I-" she stammered. But was cut off again by another kiss. Reno never _had_ been good at listening.

Ah, screw it, she thought, as all rational thought were driven out of her mind. Somehow, with Reno, she always went against her common sense, always stepping over her boundaries. He drove her insane, making her feel all those emotions she thought she had left dead, playing with her head and screwing with her thoughts, and she loved it.

She didn't hesitate, she didn't think, she didn't stop. She was usually the patient one, analysing before jumping into something, but ever since he had walked into her life, he had messed up the order by which she lived her life by. At first it was frustrating, then it was infuriating, gradually she found it to be exciting, and now she found it satisfying.

She felt free.

…_Besides, he was a good kisser_, she thought. _No, wait, correction: he was a _damn_ good kisser._

They broke apart once more, and gasping for air, Tifa saw that the look in his eyes was dead serious. He wasn't playing anymore, and neither was she. She leaned in once more, this time without the intent of hurting him (at least, not intentionally), and kissed him back.

Thus the story ends. They walked hand in hand into the beautiful, red sunset backdrop (even though it was some time in the early morning) with big smiles plastered onto their faces.

**And they lived happily ever after…**

…One make-out session later…

"_You got me LINGERIE_!"

"My grandma wanted to give you something from her shop!"

"_And the yellow, Tweety-printed bikini!"_

"You'll look _sexy_ with Tweety on your ass!"

Yelp. Shriek. Squeal.

…

…**Or maybe not.

* * *

**

**A/N:** ...Yes, Reno's grandmother owns a lingerie shop. XD That was so random on my part. I just added it in at the last minute when I was proofreading it. And in case you forgot, their last few lines were taken exactly from the soapy from last chapter. _Cliché._ XD Anyway, did you like it? Tell me, tell me, TELL ME! Leave a review, so the authoress (namely yours truly) may be able to improve her writing based on your feedback. It helps. A lot. So pwease? Okay, I won't beg anymore, in case it's getting annoying. But I hope you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed thinking up of all the random things. THANK YOU!


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